


Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles - Safe and Secure

by tyjord



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Sex, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Situational Humiliation, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyjord/pseuds/tyjord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's rebellious behavior forces Sarah and Derek to take some extreme measures to keep him safe, while Cameron seems just a bit too willing to let it all play out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles - Safe and Secure

**Author's Note:**

> Be advised, that although there is no actual sex in the story, John Connor is under the age of 18, and not exactly a willing participant in what happens. If this type of FICTION offends you, please go no further.

“I don’t know about this,” Sarah said, her head buried in her hands.

“What’s not to know,” Derek asked, his voice going up in volume. “Look at what John has been doing the last few weeks. He’s getting sloppy. Running off to Mexico was the last straw. Cromartie almost got him Sarah!” Now Derek was yelling. “We can’t afford to let him run loose. Too much is riding on his survival.”

“I know, I know,” Sarah responded.

“Besides,” Derek continued, calming down a bit, “Didn’t that shrink you’ve been seeing even suggest something like this?”

“For god’s sake, Derek, he suggested some evaluation time in a hospital, a controlled environment. Not something like this.”

“I don’t know Sarah, it would be a pretty controlled environment.”

“She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe we’re even discussing it. I can’t do this to my son.”

“Look, if we don’t find a way to rein him in, you’re not going to have a son, and the human race won’t have a future.”

Sarah slammed her hand down on the table. “Don’t you think I know that? Stop throwing the fate of humanity in my face. I’m just trying to keep my child safe.”

Derek’s expression softened as he put his hand over hers. “Sarah,” he said calmly and quietly, “I know that. I want to protect him too. He’s my nephew, my brother’s son. I want him to be safe and happy. But right now, he’s a confused, rebellious teenager and he needs to be reined in before he gets himself killed. Look, he’s going to be back from the store any minute. We have to make a decision.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Sarah turned to the third individual seated at the table. “And what do you think of all this? You know the future. Is it supposed to happen this way?”

Cameron looked back and forth from the concerned woman to the hardened warrior.

“John did not discuss specifics with me prior to sending me back. He just told me I needed to be here to protect him, keep him safe and secure.”

“Secure,” Sarah whispered. “He said you should keep him safe and secure?”

“Yes,” Cameron continued, “those were his exact words. I need to point out that my presence, and Derek Reese’s, has already altered the future dramatically. There is only a slim chance that the John who sent us back is the same one we are protecting.”

“But there is a chance?”

“Yes.”

Sarah turned her full attention to the robot. “So does this plan,” she shuddered slightly, realizing that their conversation was moving more towards becoming an actual plan of action, “this idea, sound like it would be in John’s best interest?”

“It would help me fulfill my directive. He would be both safe and secure.”

Sarah stared at the machine masquerading as her daughter. “But the plan could involve John getting hurt if he resists. You could hurt him.”

“I will not harm John Connor. It will be up to the two of you to subdue him. Since I know you are not trying to harm him, I will not be forced to act in his defense. Once that is done, he will be secure and then I will keep him safe.”

“Logical,” Derek said, always a bit suspicious of the machine’s motives.

Cameron just stared at him blankly. “I will not harm John or allow him to be harmed. However, it will be easier to protect him if he is not always attempting to evade me.  
In that regard, some discomfort suffered by him would be permissible according to my programmed parameters.”

“John programmed you to keep him from being harmed, but not for keeping him comfortable?”

“Correct.”

“Sarah,” Derek said, “at worst, this will toughen him up, give him the strength he needs to face what is coming. Soldiers do not have it easy.”

“Okay, fine,” Sarah said with a deep sigh, finally relenting, “but we have to do this right so that he doesn’t get hurt.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”  
“We can use the old wine cellar at the back of the basement. Now that we cleared out the shelves, it should be big enough.” 

Derek listened to the woman talk, realizing how she had gone from worrying to planning in a single breath. No wonder John turned out the way he did…will. 

“The temperature will be a bit low, but nothing dangerous.” Sarah continued.

“The temperature of the wine cellar is a constant fifty-five degrees,” Cameron added stoically.

“Thank you,” Sarah continued. “We should take him at night. He’ll be more confused and less likely to injure himself,”

“I’ll handle that part,” Derek offered. “That way, if he does fight back, he won’t have to deal with the guilt of hitting you. Don’t worry, I’ll be firm, but gentle.”

“Okay, but what about equipment?”

“A hospital would be best,” Derek suggested.

“No,” the cyborg said, “hospitals have video cameras and high levels of security. Also, medical supply locations would undoubtedly require identification and paperwork for the type of supplies we will need.”

“Where then,” Sarah asked. “We can’t use the stuff we have laying around. Even though it will be fine for temporary use in subduing John, none of it is made for any type of long term application.”

“I have an idea,” Cameron offered, her expression blank.

“You do?” Derek didn’t know if he liked the machine having ‘ideas’.

“Yes. I’ve done research.”

“Research? What kind of research,” Sarah asked hesitantly.

“On-line. I have found exactly what we need.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but I will need your help Derek Reese.”

 

“No way,” Derek said as he pulled up in front of the store.

“We must. It is in John’s best interest.”

“A sex shop? That was what you researched?”

“Yes. Apparently there are people into various fetishistic behaviors that utilize paraphernalia similar to the things we need. Since those people are often involved with individuals they care about, the equipment they use is less harmful than what we either have or can acquire quietly.”

“I don’t know about this…”

Cameron looked at Derek and cocked her head to the side. “Do we not all care about John?”

“Yeah, but…”

“The research cases I studied all involved people who care for each other. Should we not follow their lead?”

“Fine, let’s go.” Derek jumped out of the car as soon as he parked. “I can’t believe Sarah okayed this.”

 

“John, stop looking down at the table,” Sarah Connor said to her son.

John barely lifted his head as he looked up at his mother out of the corners of his eyes.  
“Oh, that’s much better,” she said sarcastically. “I hate those soulful, confused looks you always throw at me.”

“I don’t know what else you want from me, mom.”

“I want you to understand that if you keep acting out, you not only put yourself at risk, but Riley as well.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Did you know what you were doing in Mexico?”

“That’s not fair,” John shouted. “Someone recognized me. I screwed up that time. It won’t happen again.”

“John,” Sarah said calmly putting her hand over the now red-faced boy’s, “it only has to happen once. You know I only want what’s best for you, and this relationship with Riley is not it.”

“You’re jealous,” John said, pulling his hand out from under his mother’s. “You don’t want me to ever have a normal life.”

“Is Derek jealous? Cameron? They both agree. You know that. John, we want nothing more than for you to have a normal, happy life. That’s what we’re all working towards here. We’re trying to stop the horror before it happens. Before you’re forced into becoming a battle hardened soldier.”

“I don’t want to be a soldier. I’m not a soldier. I just want it to end.”

“Me too, sweetheart, but the risks are too great. You have to stop running around with Riley.”

John stood up suddenly, knocking over the chair. “Back to her again. I’m done talking about this.”

“John wait…” Sarah called after him as he ran upstairs and into his room.

 

“Uhm, aren’t you a little young to be back here girlie?”

Cameron placed one of her numerous fake id’s on the counter in front of the older woman, this one listing her age as twenty-one.

“Oh, I see, you just look young for your age. Trust me kiddo in twenty years you’ll be thanking your lucky stars for that.”

“Have you filled the list I e-mailed you?”

The woman looked at the name on the id. “Sure have. Give me a minute and I’ll lay the stuff out for you.”

“Can you please make it quick? We’re in a hurry.” Derek said as he looked nervously about the large curtained off back area of the store.

“I don’t believe anyone was talking to you boy,” the woman said disdainfully before turning back to Cameron. “I can see why you need this stuff. He is certainly an unruly one, and unkempt too.”

“I’m working on it,” Cameron said.

“What?” Both women ignored Derek’s outcry

“You might be off on the sizes you sent me. He looks bigger than what you asked for.”

“He likes it tight.”  
Smiling mischievously at Derek, the woman disappeared into a back room.

“I can not believe you set this up with me as some kind of fetish freak.”

“We needed a cover story.”

“This really sucks.”

 

As Sarah expected, it was not long after John’s abrupt end to their conversation that Riley appeared. The two of them were now holed up in his room, the door closed and, she assumed, locked. She glanced down at her watch, wondering what was keeping her two accomplices.

It wasn’t long before the two teens came down the stairs in a hurry.

“John…” Sarah tried.

“Going out, mom. Don’t wait up.”

 

“So he just left without saying anything else?” Derek said as they unpacked the bags.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, dumping a mass of leather and metal onto the table.

“More proof we’re doing the right thing.”

“I guess. How was the shopping trip?”

Derek looked at her, his face reddening. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He is unkempt and insolent. The clerk didn’t think he had much potential. She did however, try to up-sell me into a one-gallon enema bag. She said it was just the thing he needed to improve his demeanor,” the cyborg said impassively.

“Really?” And did you take her up on it?”

“No, not at present, as none of these items are actually for Derek Reese. However, if he does have a problem, we should rethink purchasing it. John may also need it if he doesn’t react favorably to his new situation.”

“I’ll keep it in mind then,” Sarah said, enjoying Derek’s discomfort at being the butt of the women’s conversation.

“Can we just get back to this?”  
“Sure,” Sarah looked at the metal bodyguard sent back in time by her son to protect himself. “You gathered this stuff, why don’t you give us the specifics?”

The girl walked closer to the pile on the table and lifted the first item. 

“This is a high security straight jacket. It is made of leather and rubber, with metal buckles throughout. It has inside pockets located at the end of each sleeve that keep the hands enclosed separately from the rest of the arm. The top, unlike more traditional straightjackets, ends in a stiff, high collar that buckles in place. This prevents a more accomplished escapist from dislocating their shoulder and pulling their arm through the neck area. The arms are held in the normal chest hugging position, and the crotch strap features a bisected design in front that tapers to a single strap at the rear. All of the buckles and straps have locks to ensure no slippage or loosening. John will remain perfectly secure once this is in place.”

Derek watched Sarah’s reaction, noticing the tears forming in her eyes. She had spent many years in a mental hospital, and he knew that she had survived long periods of time wearing similar equipment.

“Next we have leather ankle cuffs,” the robot continued, putting down the jacket and picking up the next item. “Also locking, the chain between them can be lengthened or shortened as needed. As you can see, the chain can be threaded through the back of the straightjacket to further restrict movement if necessary.” 

Placing those back down, she pointed to two larger sets of similar cuffs. “One set for above the knees, and one for below.” She pushed those aside, and moved on.

“As there may be a need for John to remain silent at some point, we purchased two different types of gags. One is a standard locking ball gag,” she turned to Derek, “which may be too big as the clerk insisted the smaller one I wanted was not large enough to effectively silence my ‘loud-mouthed slave’. However, I believe it will still work as they both have rather large mouths.”

Derek, completely red faced, mumbled something under his breath, but was ignored by the two women.

“The ball gag is strictly for low security instances,” Cameron said matter of factly.

‘Like when we just need to keep him from whining or complaining?” Sarah asked, already knowing the machines answer.

“Correct. He will undoubtedly voice his complaints about the situation most profoundly. However, when his silence is an absolute necessity, this is what will be used. It is an inflatable rubber gag that fills the entire oral cavity from behind the teeth to the back of the throat. It also has two sidepieces that fill the cheeks on both sides. Once that is strapped on using the attached muzzle, which locks the jaw closed over the gag, this leather hood can be laced, buckled and locked on John’s head. External straps tighten the gag further, while a strap around the eye area and internal earplugs block out all other sensory perception if used.”

“Good thing he cut his hair short recently,” Derek said, “or we would have had to do it prior to fitting him into that thing.”

“How does he breathe,” his mother whispered, horrified at the thought of encasing her son’s head in that monstrosity.

“There are attached twin tubes that fit up into his nostrils and end flush with the hood under his nose. You cannot see them from outside, and the holes will be just barely noticeable if you are looking right at them.

Sarah shuddered.

Derek motioned for the machine to put down the hood and move on.

“We also have several packages of disposable diapers so that we do not have to remove John from his secure holding area in order for him to relieve himself. However, this would be part of the case for returning to purchase the enema bag. If John does not adapt to the diapers, we will have to find a way to make him use them on a regular basis. Also, the clerk suggested shaving at least the groin area to prevent diaper rash. Of course, she was speaking about Derek whom we know is more hirsute than John. However, it may be something to consider.” 

Derek blushed, unable to rationalize his embarrassment away.

“We also have several miscellaneous sets of restraints, collars, and cuffs that will enable us to give John rest periods away from his more restrictive gear.”

“What’s this,” Sarah asked, picking up another item.

“It’s called an armbinder,” Derek responded quickly, “and apparently I’m going to suffer ‘oh so sweetly’ in it.”

“That is what the clerk said to him. She was mainly speaking in regards to its being too small for him. A problem John will not have. However, I cannot say that he will enjoy wearing it. The single sleeve armbinder holds the arms rigidly together behind the back with the elbows touching. John’s flexibility will ensure the proper fit, but it will be unpleasant. We should only use it when he must be kept absolutely immobile.”

Sarah was staring at the black mass of straps and buckles in fear.

“Be strong,” Derek said to her, “hopefully we’ll never have to leave him in it for too long.”  
“I agree,” Cameron added. “However it would probably be good to fit John into everything at least once to acclimate him to the possibilities.”

“Can’t we just lock him in the room without all this?”

“You know we can’t do that Sarah.” Derek placed his hands on her upper arms and turned her away from the table. “He’s a fighter. He’ll just hurt himself trying to get out.  
It’s for his own good.”

“I know,” Sarah said as she mustered her resolve and turned back to the table.

 

John slept deeply, but restlessly. The unusual heat of the upstairs areas had forced him to sleep only in his boxer briefs. Even so, the boy was covered in a light sheen of perspiration. Troubling images plagued his dreams, causing the occasional whimper to escape his lips. 

Sarah looked at Derek, barely able to make him out in the almost pitch black room. This was the third time John had made the whimpering sound since the two had crept into his room. Despite the calm regularity of his breathing, which suggested a deep, sound sleep, the noises had startled the pair at first. Sarah had never known John to be subject to night terrors, and the small sounds of his suffering were tugging ferociously at her heartstrings.

Derek was worried. From what he could make out of Sarah’s expression, he could tell she was having second thoughts. He tried to give her his most reassuring, resolute look, but had no idea how much she could see. Derek knew it was best if they just got on with it. Once they started, there would be no time for regrets, only action. 

Derek positioned himself next to the bed, the small, rough-hewn sack in his hands at the ready. He glanced back at Sarah, and caught a small glint of light from the handcuffs she was holding. Not wanting to give the boy’s mother any further opportunity to back out, Derek pounced on his nephew’s sleeping form. He threw his entire body across John’s chest, while pulling the sack over the boy’s head.

“What the…” John yelled, waking abruptly. “Mom,” John screamed, his sleep-ridden eyes unable to open before the sack was pulled down, ensuring his remaining in the dark.

Derek struggled to flip the flailing boy over onto his stomach. He had to give the kid credit, he was fighting something fierce and it was taking everything Derek had to hold on without hurting him.

“John, it’s Derek, calm down. It’s okay. Don’t struggle,” the boy’s uncle said calmly and quietly.

John froze, not expecting to hear Derek’s voice. The moment of confusion gave Derek the opportunity to flip the boy and pull his hands behind his back. Holding them there with one hand, Derek reached back for the handcuffs. His open hand stayed empty for what seemed an eternity before Sarah handed him the cuffs.

“What’s going on? Derek, what…” John said, his voice muffled slightly through the sack.

“Ow,” John yelped as the cuffs were ratcheted tightly into place.

Derek looked back at Sarah, his body still leaning into John’s to keep him from struggling. “Hurry up, tape his feet.”

Sarah moved quickly, wrapping turn after turn of duct tape around her son’s feet, stopping them from thrashing around. Once she had finished, Derek took the roll of tape from her trembling hands and proceeded to wrap John’s mouth area over the sack. John’s muffled protests were cut to just grunts and groans by the time Derek was finished. Handing the tape back to Sarah, Derek leaned over and loosely knotted the sack’s drawstrings around John’s neck, ensuring the hood would not fall off. 

The boy was still struggling despite his bonds, his fierce survival instinct kicking into high gear.

“John, listen to me,” Derek said calmly as he stood up next to the boy on the bed. 

“You’re okay, your mom is okay. Just try to calm down.

John stopped thrashing on the bed, but more muffled grunts were coming from behind his hood.

“I need you to relax so you don’t hurt yourself. Everything will be fine.”

Obviously unswayed, and completely disoriented from being woken up and taken prisoner, John began struggling again, despite his uncle’s reassurances.

“John, please listen to him,” Sarah said, putting her hand on her son’s leg.

John froze. His mother was here? She was a part of this?

Derek took the opportunity to lift the confused boy up, off of the bed, throw him over his shoulder, and carry him out of the room.

Sarah followed behind them, staring at the hooded head of her son. She fought back her tears and focused on doing what was best for him.

 

They exited the house and moved quickly around back, where Cameron was already standing next to the lifted open doors leading to the storm basement. Derek stepped down carefully, John still sporadically struggling over his shoulder. Sarah walked in behind them, and waited at the bottom for Cameron to follow, closing the doors behind her. Derek had already made it to the wine closet’s heavy wooden door, and was waiting for the women to join him. 

Sarah, accompanied by the machine passed the blood stained wall at the back of the basement, and she paused only an instant to further ponder the eerie messages left by yet another resistance fighter sent back by her son’s future self.

“You are doing the right thing,” Cameron said as the women reached the door.

”Just shut up and open it.”

The cyborg showed no sign of insult as she put a key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the solid door open. 

The one light bulb, screwed into a socket flush with the low ceiling of the room, was the only thing illuminating the almost bare, concrete chamber. It was a small space, no more than nine feet square, whose walls were formerly filled with carved shelves designed to hold wine bottles. Upon first considering their plan, Derek had spent a few days tearing out the shelves and installing the only other items in the room; strategically placed small metal rings bolted to the floor, walls and ceiling. 

Without hesitating, Derek ducked, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling as he had done several times while working in the room, and placed John down gently, next to a grate covered drain in the center of the floor. Derek had also ensued that the grate was secured properly so that it would not come loose and pose a possible threat to the boy. He had considered removing the grate altogether and just filling the drain in with concrete, but this room was the lowest underground point of the structure, and as such, it was possible that there could be flooding issues. There were other reasons to have a fully functional drain in the room, but Derek had preferred to not dwell on those as he worked.

Sarah felt the chill of the room seep into her bones as she watched John shiver once he was placed on the cold floor. She knew that keeping him minimally dressed was the best course of action; even so, she could not help but feel for him. She watched as Derek turned John onto his stomach, even as she heard Cameron bring the crate containing their supplies into the room. All four people were now in the cramped confines of the small space, and a remembered feeling of claustrophobia from her days in the institution was beginning to well up inside her. Sarah blocked it out as Derek motioned for the handcuff key. She handed it to him with one hand as she took two leather straps offered by Cameron with the other. 

Leaning with his knee firmly placed in the small of John’s back, Derek unlocked and removed the cuffs, tossing them towards the cyborg. He watched her retrieve them and carefully place them into the crate for future use. A sudden burst of resistance from the boy returned Derek’s attention as he fought to maintain control over John’s now freed arms. He leaned further into John’s back and grabbed his arms, pulling them together behind the boy, palms facing out.

Sarah took the opportunity and moved in. She wrapped one of the straps around her son’s wrists and buckled it in place. She then took the other strap and placed it just above his elbows. She began cinching the loose end through the buckle, drawing his arms even closer together. She stopped momentarily as she heard a gasp from under the sack. 

Derek looked at her with resolve, “keep going, it needs to be a little tighter.”

Sarah gave the strap one good yank and, despite the loud but muffled protests of her son, buckled it in place as well. Cameron was already standing next to them when Sarah looked up. The machine was holding out the next item to be used in John’s restraint. 

Derek took the armbinder from her and carefully began sliding it into place. He seated the boy’s hands into the bottom section; palms still facing outward, and then began pulling the rest of the single sleeve up. As he reached the top of the boy’s arms, just below the shoulders, Sarah pulled a much thicker, attached strap around the wrist section. She buckled that in place tightly, having to exert a considerable amount of force in order to secure it around the thick leather. She then began lacing the back of the device as Derek continued to hold it in place at the top. Tightening the laces removed all of the slack from John’s bound arms and pushed them the final distance to where his elbows were now touching. There were constant groans issuing from the boy, but they were ignored as the work to secure him became more intense. Sarah finished the lacing and then moved back down to his elbow area where yet another strap was attached. She quickly pulled that into place and buckled it, even as Derek buckled the final strap in place around John’s arms at the top of the armbinder. 

Derek then pulled the attached harness straps around John’s bare chest. Once strapped in place, they ensured no slippage from the strict device. A single strap, connected to the middle back of the top part of the armbinder, was connected to a high leather posture collar that dangled, unused for the moment.

Derek stood up. The three conspirators watched the boy squirm for a moment. “Well,” he asked Cameron.

“The straps are not tight enough,” she replied impassively. “I can get them to the proper stress point.”

“Without hurting him,” Sarah stated.

“Without harming him,” the robot corrected.

Sarah and Derek moved aside as Cameron bent down next to John and unbuckled each of the three straps securing the armbinder and re-did them, cinching them harshly, and then buckling them back in place. Once finished, she stood up and allowed Derek, who had pulled three padlocks out of the chest, to kneel back down and snap them into place onto the buckles. He then handed each of them a key, keeping one for himself. 

“There. That setup can’t be removed without all three locks being undone. We each have a key, so there are no worries of someone getting cold feet. We support each other”

Sarah stared at her key, while Cameron simply looked impassively at Derek.

“Let’s cut the tape off his feet and put him into position,” Derek said, feeling that they shouldn’t slow down long enough to think about what they were doing, especially Sarah.

Derek pulled a large knife out of a holster on his ankle, and cut the duct tape from around John’s ankles. He then grabbed one ankle while Sarah grabbed another, and each of them buckled a single, leather manacle, offered up by Cameron, into place. The manacles had no chains, only small attached D-rings. With John still on his stomach, they spread his legs wide and, utilizing two more padlocks, locked them directly to two rings in the floor. Derek then pulled John into a sitting position; his butt touching the ground between his widely splayed knees. The boy resisted only minimally now, knowing he was truly helpless. A length of heavy chain was given to Derek, and he locked it to a ring centered on the bottom of the armbinder. He then fed the other end through a ring in the ceiling, set right above the drain, and began hoisting John’s bound arms up behind him slowly, stopping only once they were parallel to the ground. Derek then attached the chain to itself using a small clip.

He turned to Cameron, “okay, get his headgear ready. I’m going to take off the sack.” 

While he waited for the robot, Derek leaned down next to John. The boy’s head and shoulders were now tilted towards the floor due to the pressure at his shoulders, and Derek had to lower his own head further in order to be next to John’s ear. 

“John, listen to me. I know you’re scared, but I need you to relax. Stay calm and quiet. I’m going to take the sack off your head and replace it with something else. Please don’t fight me, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” With that, Derek again used his knife to carefully cut the tape circling the sack at John’s mouth. Being this close to his nephew, he could see goose bumps all over the boy’s skin, and noticed occasional trembling as he knelt there helplessly. Derek untied the drawstring around John’s neck, and left the sack unsecured as he took the proffered items from Cameron and placed them on the ground next to him.

With one quick move, Derek pulled off the sack and immediately replaced it with a rubber blindfold, strapping it tightly behind John’s head.

“Mom! Cameron!” John yelled out as his uncle finished with the tight eye covering.

“Shhhh, calm down,” Derek said, holding John’s head gently to stop his attempts to shake off the blindfold. 

Once the boy had settled down, Derek picked up the inflatable gag and held it in front of John’s mouth. 

“I need you to open your mouth now John.” The boy however, kept his mouth sealed closed, afraid of the heavy rubber smell right under his nose.

The robot watched as the boy she was sent to protect refused to open his mouth. Quickly, she moved out of the room and stepped back into the main part of the basement. “John,” she called out as though searching for him.

“Cam…!” John yelled in response, only to have his uncle jam the rubber device into his mouth. John wretched as he tasted the disgusting rubber plug now filling him. He groaned as Derek inserted the twin sidepieces into his cheeks and then winced as he felt even more straps being secured behind his head. 

Once Derek finished with the gag strap, he maneuvered the heavy rubber muzzle into place, completely covering John’s lower face from beneath his nose to under his chin. The small inflation tube sticking out of the plug gag was fed through a hole at the front of the muzzle. More straps were then secured under the boy’s jaw, over and around his nose, and over the top of his head, followed by each one being secured to the main gag strap behind John’s head. The effect was complete immobilization of the boy’s mouth.

John began struggling violently at this point. He knew he was well past any hope of getting free on his own, but he had been taught to fight until the end, and he intended to make whatever plan his uncle had for him as difficult as possible.

Sarah had been watching in a daze, absent-mindedly fidgeting with the two earplugs that Derek was now motioning for. She walked closer and knelt down at Derek’s side, handing him the plugs. She watched as yet another one of John’s time displaced saviors shoved the first plug deep into her son’s left ear.

“Talk to him,” Derek said as he prepared to seat the second plug.

“John. It’s all right. I promise you everything will be okay.”

John froze at the sound of his mother’s voice. He stopped struggling as he tried to digest this new bit of intel. His mother didn’t seem under duress, she just sounded sad. He knew the tone her voice took on when they were in danger, and this was not it. Confusion overcame him as he heard a hushed “I love you, John” then nothing as the second earplug was jammed in place.

Sarah stood and stepped back, allowing Derek to finish hooding her son. She watched as he picked up the leather hood, pushed the gag tube through another hole, and then lined up the two nostril tubes under the boy’s nose. She shuddered as he slid the two inches of tubing simultaneously up John’s nasal passages. He then pulled the hood up and over the boy’s head, and immediately began lacing it into place at the back. He struggled to get the lacing tight enough to close the hood securely, the gag and blindfold taking up space made the task even more difficult. Finally, he finished, knotting off the remaining length of lacing and then cinching and buckling the neck strap in place. Once that was done, he lifted the collar that was dangling from the top of the armbinder and pulled it into place around his nephew’s neck. 

The wide, high posture collar covered John’s neck completely, covering the entire bottom of the hood and forcing the boys head up and straight. Derek fastened the two straps in place at the back of the collar, and then snapped a padlock into place, ensuring that it would not come off without the key.

John had stopped struggling now. The invasion of his nasal passages had taken him by surprise and he was doing his best to fight off a panic attack. He had momentarily felt as though he couldn’t breathe as the tubes slid into place, but now that his head was completely, encased, he realized that he could manage regular, short, shallow breaths if he concentrated and stayed calm. But, just when he thought his situation couldn’t get worse, he felt more tightening at his eyes and mouth. The crushing pressure increased as the hood’s over-straps, one at his eyes, the other over his gagged mouth were pulled around his head, notched and locked securely into place.

Derek threaded another chain through a ring on the floor, just above the drain and through a D-ring at the top of John’s hood. He didn’t secure either though as he stood up, unclipped the chain holding John’s arms up, and began pulling again. He continued raising his nephew’s arms up behind him until they were almost perpendicular to the floor and John’s upper body was bent forward, with his head almost touching the ground.  
He locked the arm chain in place with another padlock, then went back to the boy’s head and began taking the slack out of the chain there. He pulled it as tight as possible, preventing John from raising his head even an inch, and padlocked that chain as well.

“Why does it have to be so tight?” Sarah asked as she looked on, physically ill from the torments they were willingly inflicting on her son.

“With the gag, hood, and breathing tubes in place, his head has to be kept pointing down in case he vomits. That way the waste will flow quickly out of his nose allowing him to continue breathing,” Cameron said impassively.

“He could vomit?”

“It’s possible,” Derek added as he retrieved the inflation bulb and attached it to the gag tube. “Especially once the gag starts getting bigger.”

“Then we shouldn’t inflate it,” Sarah said, hoping to stem her son’s suffering at its current level.

“We must,” Cameron said. “We have to ensure that he is completely incapable of making any sounds if necessary.”

Derek began squeezing the bulb. The three of them watched the boy, but there was no sign of changes. Finally, they could hear a very low groan coming from deep in John’s throat. Derek increased the pumps, knowing that with the restrictiveness of the hood, the inflating gag was filling every interior inch of his nephew’s mouth and cheeks.

“We should test his vocal ability and eliminate any possibilities,” Cameron said.

Derek sighed at the clinical nature of her words, but knew them to be correct. With one hand on the bulb, he reached down and grabbed one of John’s nipples, pinching it extremely hard. A muffled scream emanated from the boy, and Derek reacted by squeezing the inflation bulb quickly. He pumped until John was cut off in mid scream. He then repeated the pinch on the boy’s other nipple. No sound escaped the tightly bound figure. Derek made note of the pressure reading on the inflation bulb, then removed it from the gag tube. He then placed two fingers over the nose holes in the hood completely blocking them. 

“Sorry, Sarah, but we have to make sure he can breathe freely.” He stayed in place until the boy started to twitch in his bonds. After about thirty seconds, the twitching became frantic as John fought for air. Satisfied, Derek removed his fingers, allowing air to flow once again. The boy was sucking in air deeply now, trying to get enough oxygen through the small openings to recover.

The three then stood there, looking at the completely immobilized and silenced boy bent over the drain.

“What now,” Sarah asked as Cameron lifted the equipment crate out of the room.

“Now we wait for him to break. Then we can ease up on his restraints and settle into a routine,” Derek answered.

“How will we know?”

“The first sign will be when he urinates on himself,” the cyborg volunteered.

“Yes,” Derek said, a pained expression on his face.

“You know that for a fact?” Sarah asked the brother of the man she had loved.

“Yes”

“Derek Reese has firsthand knowledge of what happens when captives start giving in to the will of their captors.”

“What happened to you,” Sarah asked quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Derek said as he left the room.

Sarah took one last long look at her son and turned to join Derek. “Turn out the light, lock the door and remain on guard,” She said to Cameron as she walked away.

“Do not worry. I will keep John safe and secure.”

 

“He’s not ready yet,” Derek said, arms folded across his chest and blocking the door to John’s makeshift cell.

“I don’t care. He’s been like that for six hours and we haven’t even checked to see,” Sarah answered vehemently.

“Not true,” Cameron blurted from her post at the side of the door. “You have checked on John every hour since his internment.”

“Internment? Is that were calling this? How about imprisonment? Torture?”

“Depriving someone of their freedom during a war is classified as internment. We are at war with Skynet. John has been interned for his own protection.”

“Oh, like we haven’t heard that one before…”

“You’ve been checking on him every hour, Sarah,” Derek asked, cutting off the woman.

She turned away from the machine and looked at Derek. “I just made sure he was breathing okay. I couldn’t release him without the two of you.”

“I already told you. His spirit needs to be broken. That’s not going to happen with mommy coming down here to coddle him every hour.”

The slap took Derek completely by surprise. He reached up and checked his stinging lip for blood as Sarah stood trembling before him.

“I hope that made you feel better,” Derek said quietly. “Here’s my key. Do what you feel is necessary.”

Sarah took the key and stared down at it. “I know what I’m talking about Sarah. He’s not going to change until we force him to. He’s not ready yet.”

“What happened to you?”

“The same thing that happened…will happen…to John. I changed. I grew up. The whole human race had to grow up, and fast.” Derek pushed past her and left the basement.

“He’s right, you know.”

“Be quiet. It’s because of things like you that this is happening. Now give me your key and open the door.”

 

Sarah fumbled with the buckles, having already detached the chain going from his hood to the floor, her hands shaking as she removed the top gag and blindfold straps from her son’s hooded head. Once those were off, she could see his expanded, rubber filled cheeks pushing against the leather. Quickly, she unbuckled his collar, revealing the laces to the hood. Her fingers were unsteady, extending the process as she tried to pry open the torturous headgear. Finally, she got the back open enough to pull it from his head. She gently slid it off, working the twin tubes slowly from his nose. Discarding the hood, she held his red face in her hands, and quickly brushed his sweat soaked hair off his forehead. 

He was gasping for breath through his now free nasal passages, and she hurriedly attached the inflator bulb to the front of the gag, turned the release, and deflated the balloons filling his mouth. Unlocking the gag strap and blindfold at the same time, Sarah removed the last of the boy’s head bondage with a yank. She heard the gag pull free with a sickening plop, initiating a coughing and retching fit from her dazed son. 

“John! Baby are you okay…I’m so sorry…”

“Get away from me,” the boy yelled, his voice hoarse and cracking, body pulling against his still secured restraints. “You’re machines! All of you! Where’s my mother? What have you done…”

Sarah pulled the earplugs from her son’s ears, wanting him to hear her voice, hoping it would calm him down.

“John, it’s me, mom. I’m not a machine, neither is Derek. Only Cameron is a machine, but she’s on your side John.”

“My side?” John yanked violently at the chains holding him. “How can any of you be on my side? Look what you did to me. I hate all of you!”

“John,” Sarah whispered, “please don’t talk that way. We only did this to keep you safe.”

“How can I be safe like this? No, you’re machines. You replaced all the people who cared about me and now you’re trying to torture me because you couldn’t kill me no matter how hard you tried.”

“John no…”  
“Screw you!”

“I told you he wasn’t ready.” Derek had entered the room during Sarah’s exchange with her son and was standing directly behind the kneeling boy.

“Great,” John said, a smirk forming on his strap marked face. “Now we’re going to play good robot, bad robot?”

“No John,” Derek answered, moving around in front of his nephew. “We’re not robots and we’re not playing.”

“What else would a machine say?”

“John, we’re not machines,” Sarah said.

“My family would never do this to me.”

Sarah just stared at him for a moment, her eyes red from hour of tears. Then, faster then he could react, Sarah grabbed the knife from Derek’s ankle holster, and plunged it into the palm of her left hand. Her scream mixed with her son’s even as Derek grabbed her to keep her from falling into the bound boy. Blood was pouring from the wound as Derek maneuvered her around her son.

“Not machines…” Sarah said through gritted teeth, as Derek pushed her out the door, cursing under his breath.

Cameron was still standing outside the door when Derek rushed past with Sarah. “Get in there and put him back the way he was. Make everything as tight as possible,” Derek said to her as he pushed the in shock Sarah towards the steps.

Cameron entered the room and found John crying softly. “They’re not cyborgs, you know.”

“I know,” John said between sobs.

I have to put your headgear back on now. I’m also going to pull your arms further up. 

You had too much mobility during your struggling.”

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t pull my arms up any more. My shoulders hurt.”

“I have scanned your positioning. Your arms could handle considerably more strain before serious harm occurs. Why should I not restrain you further?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

“You are not yet the John Connor I am programmed to obey.”

“Because I’m asking you…”

She looked at him, her head cocked to the side. “Very well, but do not resist as I replace 

your head restraints. This will be very uncomfortable…”

 

“What happened to Derek?” Sarah spoke softly to the machine, cradling her now bandaged hand.

“Nothing. As far as I know, Derek Reese has gone to sleep for the night.”

“That’s not what I meant. Okay, fine, what will happen to Derek that makes him like this?”

“Derek Reese said that he did not wish to talk about it.”

Sarah just stared at Cameron, the cyborg still standing guard outside John’s “cell”.

“I’m not asking Derek, I’m asking you.”

Cameron paused a moment as she processed the logic.

“Derek Reese was captured twice by Skynet. The first time he was used as part of Skynet’s human psychological testing program. He was tortured for several weeks.

“My God,” Sarah whispered.

“I was not privy to the details of his escape from that facility. The second time he was captured was while he was rescuing John’s father. Kyle Reese had been taken with a large group of resistance fighters. Derek freed him but was caught and put with the others. They were kept chained to the floor in a large room, each prisoner being removed once their will had broken and they were ready to co-operate.”

“That’s how he knows about the urination,” Sarah stated.

“Yes,” Cameron continued, “but Derek did not break. He provided no information and did his best to help the others maintain their resolve.”  
“What happened?”

“He eventually escaped after many attempts to break him.”

“You seem to know a lot about this instance. Why is that?”

“I do not want to talk about it.”

“I see,” Sarah said, trying to hide her shock at the cyborg’s statement.

“Are you here to check on John? If so, I can hear him breathing normally for his situation. All of his life signs are stressed, but within normal parameters.”

“No, I came to ask you about Derek. But thank you for the update.”

“You should get some rest. I will monitor John at all times. Do not worry. If there is a problem, I can free him without all three keys.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said, torn at the thought of expressing gratitude to a machine, but oddly comforted by the fact that she was watching over her son. “Keep him safe.”

“I will.” Cameron just stared blankly at Sarah as she turned and left the basement. Once she was gone, the cyborg amplified the sound of John’s short breaths and focused all of her attention on that.

 

It was late the next evening when Derek decided to check on John. The boy had now been restrained for over sixteen hours, and Derek knew he would have reached his limit by know. Cameron was standing by the door, and he doubted she had moved once. “Did Sarah check on him before she left?”

“No,” she answered, not lying.

“Good. He needs to be less of a mama’s boy. I’m hoping this will set him straight.” 

Derek opened the door and smelled it immediately. John had pissed himself. The small room reeked of the boy’s urine. Derek saw John, still immobilized in full gear, his briefs soaked and his body shivering. A small puddle of his urine gathered on the floor under his head, not all of it having found its way to the drain. 

“When?”

“About two hours ago.”

“And you didn’t come for me?”  
“There were no specific instructions to do so. I thought it best if we wait a while so that he could fully absorb what happened.”

“You thought it best that he sit there, smelling his own urine, for two hours?”

“Yes.”

“You really are one of them.”

“I am facilitating the accomplishment of our goal. A goal that was instigated by you.”

Derek looked at her impassively, not finding words to counter her argument. “Never mind, let’s just get him undone.”

Cameron undid the chain on John’s head, while Derek unlocked the boy’s collar and began undoing the hood. He deflated the gag almost halfway, before motioning for Cameron to lower John’s arms. A long, low groan escaped from the boy’s mouth as his long tortured shoulders found relief from the stressful position they had been in for so long. Derek gently helped the boy to his side on the cold floor. He then removed the blindfold, and, as John’s rapidly blinking eyes tried to adjust to the dim light of the room, he removed the rest of the muzzle and gag.

John coughed and sputtered as the foul rubber was pulled out. He worked his aching jaw back and forth, a feeling of relief flooding through him.

“Just relax,” Derek said calmly, “you’ll be fine.”

“How’s my mom,” John asked, his voice raspy and faint.

“She’s okay. She just went out to get some meds.”

“For her hand?”

“Yeah.”

The boy started to tear up, “I didn’t mean…”

“Look what you did here,” Derek said loudly, cutting the boy off. “You wet yourself like a little baby.”

“I couldn’t help it,” John stammered, “I had to go…”

Derek couldn’t tell if he were still red faced from the constriction of the hood, or from embarrassment. 

“See John, that’s part of the problem. You are out of control.”  
“I know. I’m sorry.”

And just like that, Derek knew that it was all worthwhile. There wasn’t any defiant tone to the boy’s words, just defeat and acceptance. 

“So you understand why this is happening?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“My behavior has been bad. I’ve been putting all of us at risk. You put me down here so that I couldn’t do anything that would endanger us anymore.”

“Not ‘us’ John, you. You were putting yourself in danger. We couldn’t allow that to continue. And even if you didn’t get yourself killed, what would it have done to you if your actions had gotten Riley hurt?”

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“You should save the apologies and tears for your mother. She’s the one who suffered the most through this, and I don’t mean what happened to her hand.”

John looked at his uncle, confusion in his tear filled eyes. 

“Do you think it was easy for her to do this to you? To let it be done to you? She has spent so many years keeping you out of harms way and now, forced to do this…”

“What can I do? How do I make it better?” John squirmed on the cold concrete, trying to attain a more comfortable position as the ache in his shoulders began to subside slightly.

“For starters, you can start listening to us.”

“Then you’ll let me out?”

“No, sorry.”

“Oh,” the boy said, his eyes moving dejectedly to the floor.

“But, if your attitude improves, we’ll make your situation down here easier. The way you have been secured is for only extreme circumstances, when we need you silent and unable to interfere. We have no intention of keeping you that way all the time.”

“Good,” John said, “because my arms are killing me.”

“Unfortunately, they’re going to be like that at least until your mom gets back. It takes all three of us to release you.”

Confusion was again apparent on John’s face.

“This way no one of us can release you if we have second thoughts. This was a unanimous decision, John.”

“Not everyone agreed,” the boy mumbled under his breath.

“You don’t get a say until you grow up and start acting like an adult. In fact, that little comment has earned you some more time gagged.” Derek walked to the door and took the offered item from Cameron’s hand. Kneeling back down by john, he showed the boy the large black ball connected to a leather strap. “Now, you’re going to open as wide as you can and let me push this into your mouth. After that, you can rest as you are until your mother comes back. Then we’ll decide on whether or not we’ll make it easier for you.”

John looked at his uncle, and, seeing only resolve in his eyes, shut his own and opened his mouth.

 

All three had now entered John’s small cell. The boy was still laying on his side, arms pulled brutally behind him in the armbinder. He saw his mother, her hand heavily bandaged, looking as though she hadn’t slept for days. She knelt down next to him and reached behind his head. He felt the lock opening, and sputtered as the huge black ball was pulled from his mouth. Not saying anything, John just worked his jaw, trying to alleviate the ache that had built up as a result of being stretched to its fullest.

Sarah looked at her son and sighed. “Still think Derek and I are cyborgs?”

“No.”

“Are you going to behave yourself, John?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.” Sarah gently turned her son over onto his stomach, careful to avoid the small puddles of urine that did not dry in the chill, damp room. She quickly unlocked the armbinder’s padlocks, and began undoing the buckles. As she began unwrapping the lacing, she winced at the yelp John made as his elbows were finally allowed to move apart.

“Shh,” she hushed him quietly, “I don’t want to have to re-gag you yet.”

John bit his tongue as the blood flow began returning to his arms. The pins and needles feeling was both a nightmare and relief for his long aching arms.

“There,” Sarah said as she undid the last of the straps and laces. 

Derek helped her pull the restraint off of him, and then the two undid all of his remaining bonds, leaving him bare except for his urine stained boxer briefs. 

“Now, John, here are the rules. You don’t talk unless we tell you to. Violating that rule earns you the inflatable gag. You do exactly what we say, when we say it. Failure to follow orders results in a return to absolute immobilization. Following the rules will make things easier, and over time, once we’ve seen a real change, you’ll be allowed more freedom. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Good. Now that you’ve seen that this is very serious, and that your comfort is not as important as your safety, we can make things a little easier for you. First, you have to make a decision. Before we put you in your next set of restraints, you have to be stripped, cleaned and diapered.”

“Diapered?” The boy blurted out in horror.

Cameron stepped forward immediately with the previously used headgear.

“Did I say you could speak?” Sarah asked as she took the item from Cameron.

“No,” John whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“We must not be weak with him,” Cameron said flatly. “He has broken a rule laid out for him seconds ago.”

“No,” Sarah said, fingering the evil looking hood. “I think the circumstances allow for a bit of leeway. Don’t you agree, Derek?”

“This time…yes. But not again.”

“Agreed. Now John, you just heard that. So understand that another sound from you without permission will result in you back the way you were earlier.”

John just lowered his head in defeat.

“Good. And yes, I said diapered. You are not leaving this room for any reason for quite some time, even to go to the bathroom. So, we decided that keeping you in a diaper would solve that problem. It already smells like a public restroom in here, without you messing yourself further.”  
Her son’s face turned red with shame.

“Here’s your chance to actually have some control over your situation. As I was saying, you need to be cleaned up. You can have Derek or Cameron do it. This will be your only time to choose. After this, your diaper will be changed by whoever is available.”

John looked from his uncle to the robot. The conflict was apparent in his eyes as he struggled with the choice.

“Decide, John.” Sarah said calmly.

“Cameron,” the boy stammered as Derek walked out of the room, obviously disheartened by John’s feeling more comfortable around the machine than him.

“Fine.” Sarah said. “We’ll be back later to check on you. Remember, obey her, John.”

Sarah and Cameron switched places, the latter moving all of her laid out gear closer. Sarah looked at her son, but spoke to the girl. “Do what you have to do. If he gives you any trouble, render him unconscious and finish up. Then put him in the heaviest restraints possible.”

“And if he is co-operative?”

“Stick to the plan.”

With that, Cameron turned to the unsteady boy as Sarah closed the door behind her. 

“Take off your shorts, John,” the terminator said, holding up a battery powered electric clipper.

 

“How did it go?” Sarah asked Cameron upon her return two hours later. The machine had been back at her post, guarding the door to John’s cell.

“Difficult at first. He was very embarrassed. But he proved to be up to the challenge. He may turn out to be more like my John than I anticipated.”

“In what way?”

“I am not programmed to divulge information of that kind to you.”

“I see. Alright, open the door and let me have a look.” 

Sarah stepped into the room, trying to ignore the damp chill permeating the small space. She saw John, his eyes closed, leaning against the far wall. His mouth was once again stuffed with the black ball gag, and his crinkly white diaper was just barely evident below the leather and rubber straightjacket he now wore. His arms were pulled tightly around himself, as though he were fighting off the chill. The high collar was holding his head upwards, and a length of chain went from the back of it to a ring set into the wall. His bare legs were twisted to the side, cuffs holding them together just below his knees and at his ankles. Another chain, this one much shorter, kept his ankles firmly locked to another ring in the floor. The room still smelled like urine, but at least, Sarah noted with some small gratitude, Cameron had moved him away from the drain. As she glanced in that direction, she noticed her son’s shorts balled up next to the grate. She pretended not to notice the small clumps of hair surrounding the shorts that had obviously missed the drain.

John opened his eyes as his mother sat down next to him. She shifted his body so that he was leaning against her, cradling his head in the crook of her arm and gently stroking his matted hair with her hand. 

John squirmed slightly, the restriction of the tight, confining jacket starting to take its toll. 

“It’s okay John, I’m here with you. Just close your eyes and relax. Try to get some sleep,” Sarah said as she began gently rocking. She watched as his eyes closed, and within minutes, despite the harsh gag, all of the stress on his face drained away as he fell into an exhaustion induced sleep.

“Touching,” Derek said under his breath as he looked into the room.

“There is no doubt that she loves him. Her willingness to take these steps is proof of that,” Cameron responded from her post, Derek’s mumbling not hidden from her enhanced audio receptors.

“I think we all care deeply about him. I just don’t want the coddling to interfere with what he has to become.”

“Do not worry Derek Reese, I think John’s time down here will play an important roll in defining his future self.”

Derek just looked at her, frustrated over yet another cryptic remark he knew would remain unexplained. “He chose you over me.”

“Yes.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I did not ask him to explain his reasoning prior to gagging him. You may wish to have an uncle nephew chat with him at some point. Perhaps he will tell you.”

“Did he say anything prior to the gag?”

“Yes.”

“And you gagged him because he spoke?”

“No.”

“You allowed him to speak?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“It is not within my programming to divulge the things John Connor speaks of with me.”

“And that programming was put in place by John?”

“Yes.”

“But not this John?”

Cameron did not answer.

“So this did happen to our John. He knew about it and sent you back to make sure it happened correctly.” Derek wasn’t sure he wanted to continue down this confusing path.

Cameron just stared at him blankly.

“Fine, don’t tell me John’s dirty little secrets. When Sarah comes out, let her know that I have a lead on another terminator, one that may take all three of us to put down. You know what that means, right?”

“Yes. It means that I will have to prepare John for an extended period on his own down here.”

“That’s right, complete restraint, complete silence and absolute security. I wonder if John took that into account?” Derek turned away from the cyborg.

“I will ensure that John remains safe and secure, whether we are present or not…”

She said to Derek’s back as he left the basement, “…because John takes everything into account.”


End file.
